


Postcards of Innocence and Experience

by Lucius Parhelion (Parhelion)



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1920s, Community: originalbigbang, F/F, Femslash, Historical, Inspired by Art, Jazz Age, OFBB Reversebang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:16:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parhelion/pseuds/Lucius%20Parhelion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein the Jazz Age foxtrots with deceptive demureness, Mina wishes only to observe the planet Venus, Ruth proves one should never underestimate a cornered flapper, and their relatives are regrettably tedious about the giant fish incident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postcards of Innocence and Experience

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by Trishkafibble's excellent, "Dreams of Innocence (a postcard from the soul)," which you can view at [deviantart](http://trishkafibble.deviantart.com/#/d52x0hb).

I

Vintage Postcard: NEW HAMPSHIRE Recreation Pier Lake Winnipesaukee Real Photo

Code: TOPOUS-J2933

"Famous Winnipesaukee Gardens Dance Hall, Weirs." Photo by T.M. Bristol, Alton, NH. Grade II

 

The ridiculous publicity after that giant fish incident up at the lake could not be blamed on Mina, no matter what the Cooper and Fisker families would claim at baptisms, weddings, and funerals for decades afterward. On the rare occasions when she was consulted, Mina tended to fault her older brother Benjamin. In particular, she blamed the fuss on his need to juggle every little detail of his social life including all the fine points of his then-approaching wedding.

Once past their first week at the Cooper summer cottage in July of 1926, he had decided to turn his attention from negotiating a truce between their kin and his future in-laws to managing Mina.

"My dear, even families such as ours, those with sufficient resources and some social standing, must still expect their members to hew to a few conventions," was all he gave her in the way of warning.

Mina studied Benjamin before raising a single eyebrow to show her opinion of his over-ripe version of lecturing. This was what came of spending too much time with his theater cronies if he asked her, which she couldn't imagine him doing. As she'd expected, immune to mere sisterly criticism, Benjamin smiled kindly at her and twirled his Malacca walking stick between the fingers of his free hand.

They were strolling along a lamp-lit gravel path toward the Winnipesaukee Gardens. It was mid-evening, and Venus shone brightly and temptingly in the inky blue of the sky above the birch trees to their west. Beneath the crunch of gravel, the band's music, and the chatter and laughter of dancers on the pier, Mina could hear the sounds of the lake stirring against the shore. Hoping Benjamin would notice her hint, she turned her face from him to enjoy the evening breeze scented by forest shrubs and fresh water.

Given any sort of comfortable silence, their walk would have been delightful. Instead, Mina had to quash an urge to unlink her arm from Benjamin's and stomp on his foot when he said, "These past few days you have been enacting something of a cliché. The solitary spinster wallowing in her eccentricities."

"You seem to have forgotten it's 1926. Most folks see me as a young lady--" Twenty-five was still young, wasn't it? "--respectably employed but just now enjoying her summer vacation. Not Charles Dickens's Miss Havisham."

"Perhaps if you were an opera singer or a devotee of Isadora Duncan, the Fiskers could be persuaded you communed with your muses when you disappear during the evenings. They are a theatrical family, after all. But we're speaking of our own elderly relatives, Coopers of Quincy. To them, the year will always be 1892, and scandal looms whenever an unattached young female ventures out after dark to do who knows what."

"Stargazing. When I venture out to go stargazing at night. As you well know." Benjamin was wearing sturdy walking shoes. A good, hard tromp wouldn't do him any lasting damage.

"No unwed lady goes out merely to stargaze at night. She must have other intentions."

"Really?" Mina puffed out a breath in exasperation before drawing in another to ask, "And how could I have acted on these so-called intentions while observing through a twelve-inch Newtonian telescope?"

"I'm sure I wouldn't know." His words were both prim and pleased. Mina suppressed a wince. Damnation. Lose your temper around Benjamin and you lost ground with it. "However, Aunt Eustacia believes she does know when you have intentions, and she's willing to share her knowledge with all of our aunts and cousins."

"Of course she is. A species of generosity I'd expect from her."

They walked on, the music from the pier clearer as they approached. Not jazz in these surroundings, but it did sound as if the band was playing a decent fox-trot. For about the hundredth time, Mina wished she was either better at ignoring her odd inclinations or dancing was less linked to the varieties of male courtship, before she brought back her mind to her present difficulty. "Very well. You've made your point. What must I do this time to bell the tabby cat and quiet the henhouse?"

"Heavens! Such rustic language from our dark, demure, and dainty scholar." Benjamin stepped back, away from her sudden stomp, barely in time. "Temper, temper."

"First, I am not demure. Perhaps quiet the past week, a rational tactic when facing assembled aunts. Second, you have as much of Mother's Mediterranean coloring as I do, which I am sure Aunt Eustacia will find some aggravating way to confirm at length if you mention the fact in passing. Third, daintiness and astronomy do not mix well together unless we're discussing photographic plate measurements. Fourth, never burn down a city that surrendered without a siege, which you should know better than I since human society is your field of study, not mine."

By the end of her points, Benjamin was chuckling, likely at the both of them. Mina had to struggle not to lose her frown when he held up both hands and said, "Pax! I call pax." He shook his head. "Sheath your dagger, and give me leave to explain. I've arranged to kill two birds with one stone while providing both my targets with enough cover to evade the hounds of gossip."

"Self-contradicting metaphor," Mina told him, but she also lowered her hands from her waist and looked at him inquiringly.

"You are not the only one who has been avoiding familial functions in favor of pursuing your own interests." Briefly, the tip of Benjamin's cane swung up to point out a small cluster of recent dancers gathered beneath a lamp by the foot of the pier. Amid a handful of the more urbane male visitors who had skipped this fox-trot to smoke, a fashionable flapper sat perched on the wooden railing, idly swinging her silk-stocking-clad legs as she talked. Somehow she managed to seem both lovely and world-weary without obvious effort, her short curls glinting gold in electric lamplight, her posture easy amid her entourage. Even her unhurried waving away of a moth circling beneath the lamp was smooth and assured.

Mina recognized her. They'd be something close to sisters-in-law soon enough, after all. "Oh, Benjamin, no. Don't drag Ruth Fisker into this."

"Ah, but it's in her own best interests."

"She lives on Manhattan. I'm sure she knows what she's doing. How to quell any would-be Summer Romeos, I mean."

"Ellen is worried." Since Ellen was Benjamin's much-adored fiancée, that made further argument difficult. "And, as you can see…" The tip of his cane swung up again. This time he was indicating one of the men dancing close attendance on Ruth. The would-be sheik was Mina's cousin Norcross, an incorrigible flirt and the ongoing despair of his wife, Phoebe. She became a dreadful drip whenever her husband's attentions wandered away from fishing to flirting. No wonder the relatives were talking.

Mina sighed before saying, "Well, I want it made clear that whatever you're proposing was not my idea."

"Fear not. I've already tactfully explained our little familial difficulties." Benjamin reclaimed her arm and advanced.

Mina could tell Benjamin had explained something, whether tactfully or not. As they drew close enough to attract her attention away from her courtiers, Ruth's smile turned wry. With lithe grace, she slid down from her perch, somehow managing not to rumple her knee-length, blue chiffon dress or display any more limb than she already had as she did so.

When she came to meet them, Ruth's mouth still smiled but her gaze was noncommittal. "Oh, hello."

"Good evening, Ruth," Benjamin said. Mina tried a tentative smile while he continued with, "I hope you've been enjoying your dancing."

Ruth's shrug in reply was a work of art. Like her younger sister Ellen, Ruth had spent her childhood on the stage and that early training showed. "The band's not bad, but I wouldn't mind some fresher air."

She turned back to the men who had surrounded her. "I hope you gentlemen will excuse me." Using nothing more than a few charming smiles and some half-lidded glances, she disentangled herself from her would-be escorts to join Benjamin and Mina. Mina was impressed.

A long few minutes of quiet walking later -- the silent stroll was not, in fact, delightful -- Ruth finally told Mina, "I understand you're 'practically overwhelmed by ennui' and could 'stand to be distracted' tomorrow."

These obvious quotations from Benjamin's notion of tact made Mina shake her head. "Change that to practically overwhelmed by aunts, and you'd be right."

After a moment of what appeared to be surprise, Ruth laughed. The unstudied laugh was as lovely as the rest of her, Mina noted, resigned.

Still smiling, Ruth said, "Since you're not coated in insects, I'd bet you're referring to older relatives. You have my sympathy." Ruth's glance at Benjamin was swift but obvious. At least he had the sense not to interrupt as she asked, "Did you make any plans for tomorrow?"

Somehow, Mina sensed mischief. "No, not really. Have you?"

The speculative pause that followed made Mina regret ever wishing for silence. Then Ruth asked, "Could you be up by half past five in the morning?"

"I could." And farewell, tonight's observations of Venus and Jupiter.

"We might go out rowing together." A theatrical beat. "I love to fish."

"Since I can't imagine my more perilous aunts and distaff cousins venturing onto the lake in anything smaller than the steamship, I'm sure that will be delightful."

Ruth briefly studied Mina, once again appearing surprised, before she replied, "Okay. Your cottage or ours?"

"Ours. We'll provide the boat and tackle. That is, Benjamin will provide the boat and tackle."

Mina couldn't help feeling a certain wicked satisfaction when Ruth laced her arm through Benjamin's free arm and practically purred, "Gosh, what a pity to take up the rest of your evening with such a boring and _solitary_ occupation, but I'd be ever so grateful."

Benjamin continued proving his intelligence by clearing his throat but then obviously changing his mind before settling for a gracious nod and a bland, "You're welcome."

After bidding goodnight to Ruth outside the house the Fiskers had rented, Mina finally managed to shake off Benjamin at their own summer cottage, leaving him to make arrangements. If he couldn't dote at his fiancée tonight, he had only himself to blame. As for her, she was left to sneak up the stairs, past the whist and gossip session well underway in the front parlor. Then she had to resist the temptation of the telescope taking up most of the free space in her small room high up under the eaves. Instead she consoled herself with a few chapters of _Gentlemen Prefer Blondes_ , read by the light of her kerosene lamp, before resigning herself to her early bedtime.

Lamp extinguished, Mina stretched out languidly in the warmth beneath her old indigo quilt, which still smelt slightly of winter storage in cedar shavings and lavender, before she turned over to look up into the dim. In the light from the porch lamps that sifted up past oak leaves and her stirring curtains, she could see faint glints from the gilt paper stars Father had allowed her to paste onto the sloping boards of her ceiling when she was young. She'd somehow managed to misplace Canus Minor, but that hadn't mattered to her childhood dreams.

At least she'd won through to something a bit like those innocent ambitions. Her yearnings as an adult had proved much less cooperative.

Pushing all thoughts of the next day from her head, Mina let herself drift off to sleep. If Ruth Fisker, golden and graceful, insisted on fox-trotting through her dreams, that was no fault of Mina's.

 

II

Vintage Postcard: Birches by Boat House at Dawn. Painting.

Code: FANT-569

"Dawn scene in New England." Grade III

 

The next day started with that special clang an alarm clock makes only when it falls onto a plank floor. In retrospect, Mina should have taken this as an omen and refused all recreation in favor of a defensive huddle under her quilt. Instead she got up, retrieved and muzzled the clock, leaned out her window to take a deep breath of dawn air, and decided she might survive.

Waking this early was disturbing enough that Mina meant to skip eating. However, after considering the joys of live bait, she changed her mind and chose to brace herself with some dry cereal and a hardboiled egg consumed at the kitchen table while breakfast was being prepared. Hannah, who did for the assembled Coopers these days, eyed her curiously but refrained from comment. Likely she wasn't used to seeing Mina in anything as modern as serge knickers. Well, this shawl-collared blouse was conservative enough that Hannah would soon lose interest.

If Hannah found Mina's outfit worthy of note, Ruth Fisker's clothes must have astonished her. When Ruth showed up at the kitchen door, she was wearing jodhpurs, a sailor blouse, and a half-loosened necktie dyed a vigorous pink. Mina wasn't so much astonished as deeply impressed, but she had long experience at hiding such reactions.

"H'lo," Ruth said to Mina, and then, "Coffee?" she asked with desperate earnestness. Thank heavens she wasn't entirely immune to early hours on top of all her other gifts.

"We have a thermos. We have an entire picnic basket, courtesy of Hannah."

Ruth's "Oh, _thank_ you," to Hannah was delivered with true gratitude.

They only got a snort in response, but Mina could tell Hannah was pleased. The additional bottles of birch beer and the slices of pound cake she added to the bounty were a give-away.

After they'd carried the wicker picnic basket down the back stoop between them, Mina said, "Everything else is supposed to be waiting in our boathouse."

Ruth muttered, "Of course there's a boathouse," not particularly quietly, as they made the turn onto the pathway toward the lake.

"There's an overgrown croquet lawn around back, too," Mina said with edged brightness, "not to mention a fraying tennis net. Oh, and a hammock and a horseshoe pitch with half the horseshoes missing. All the little luxuries."

Ruth glanced sideways. "You do realize it's scary when you take that tone. Impressive, too."

Already feeling sheepish, Mina said, "I sound like Aunt Eustacia."

"Needs more formaldehyde and a pinch of prussic acid."

Caught by surprise, Mina snorted a laugh. Ruth grinned, looking smug for some reason.

Once within the boathouse, they worked past the dingy and the canoe to the rowboat tied up by the open archway to the lake. With surprisingly little discussion, they managed to get both the basket and the waiting fishing tackle stowed away.

"If you row us out, I'll row us in," Mina said. "And if you want to try trolling, we can switch places back and forth."

"You're so sure I'll know what I'm doing?"

Her words were worth a raised eyebrow. "Since this was your idea, I did assume that, yes." With care, Mina clambered into the bow thwart, and settled on it to watch Ruth pick up the oars with obvious experience before handing them across. "And I was evidently assuming correctly although I'll admit to being a bit surprised."

"I like water. And fishing, as I told you. You can blame the Fisker's old Danish blood." Deftly, Ruth climbed in, repossessed the oars, and fitted them into their locks as Mina cast off and pushed them away from the dock. Only once they were out on the lake, did Ruth continue with, "I've also learned that if a girl wants to fish without some gent insisting he bait her hook and then direct her casts, it's a wise idea for her to know how to do her own rowing. How about you? Tutoring by Brother Benjamin?"

"An amusing thought, considering how, whenever we're not overrun by our elders, I row him. No, Father loved to row. Also, my boarding school kept a boathouse. Their advanced educational theories included the notions that sculling is healthful and develops the bust." Mina would never know what made her shake her head and add, "My providing evidence for only one theory out of two isn't bad, I guess."

At least her words won her another grin before Ruth asked, "Do you have any suggestions for good fishing?"

"I can direct you toward your choice between the two nearby places that our family favors, both in deep water below a steep shore."

"Oh, I think I heard about one of them already," Ruth said, and started rowing toward the more distant of the two stretches of lake. However, the morning was fresh and Ruth was obviously up to her task, bending into her stroke with deft vigor, so Mina left her to it. There was nothing wrong with wanting to admire the aesthetics of a job nicely done, after all.

Following a comfortable interval of silence broken only by the fluid sounds of oars neatly cutting into and rising from the water, Ruth said, "I have to say, you're not what I thought you'd be before this past week."

"Really?"

"Not so, um, Bostonian. Conventional and upright, I mean. You're less standoffish, too."

"You may chalk up your poor predictions to my employment and my relatives if you'd like." Mina shook her head. "To be fair, I might once have met your low expectations of an entirely tedious prude, but studying mathematics and astronomy was unladylike. Working is plebian. Working as an astronomical calculator is practically Bolshevik, and my kin like to remind me of that, which accounts for the false reserve. Since I don't have Benjamin's gift for gaining my points without extended debate, I’m trying to be inconspicuous. Familial relationships are already strained enough this summer."

"Ellen," Ruth said, and frowned. "The engagement."

"He's won that battle," Mina rushed to reassure her.

"Swell. Now if I could just get my father and brothers to stop selling this to the rest of my relatives as some sort of fancy business merger, we'd be all set."

"Good luck."

"I'll need it. Ellen rarely plays this card offstage, but her mad scenes are absolutely devastating. And she doesn't like work-booted practicalities trampling all over her dainty romance."

Mina shuddered. "Oh, dear."

"You bet. There's more than one reason I'm spending my vacation here rather than on the Riviera or visiting Coney Island." Seeming to catch Mina's quizzical look at the paired alternatives, Ruth donned an air of elegant haughtiness and said, "As well as fishing, I favor French cuisine and rollercoasters."

"All three in the same afternoon? Couldn't that have dire consequences?"

They eyed each other for a few seconds before giving in to shared snickers.

Morning had dawned calm and clear, excellent for lake trout. There were any number of boats out on the waters, even more than would usually be expected at this time of the summer, which made for a picturesque scene. To add to the pleasures of the day, not only was Ruth a decent rower but a good conversationalist. By the time they had arrived at their chosen fishing spot, and were trolling the heavy sinkered lines used for lake trout in this season, Mina had been told the latest Broadway gossip. Academic high jinks struck her as pallid in comparison, but they seemed to amuse Ruth quite a bit.

"I thought you were no longer on the stage," Mina finally ventured as she slowly fed out her line.

"You couldn't pay me enough. I fact check. These days I write, too. Mostly for a new magazine about Manhattan, but they're not big on granting by-lines for shorter pieces. They like pennames, too, which is why you wouldn't recognize my work even if you saw it."

"Let me guess. You cover Broadway, among other beats."

"Say, there's a clever deduction. You must be one of those intellectual types, just like Sherlock Holmes."

No longer fooled by either the tone of mock awe or the brittle sophistication behind it, Mina merely cocked an eyebrow and let the subject drop. It wasn't as if she wanted any more reasons to like Ruth Fisker.

For once, Lake Winnipesaukee cooperated by providing distraction. Fishing for lake trout was an all or nothing affair this time of summer, and today it was all. Taking turns at the oars, they both caught trout over the next two hours, ones of good size. When Ruth had reeled in a second fish, she shook her head and spoke for it, "Did you know water would be the end of me?" while she reached to remove the trout from her hook.

Mina glanced at her, startled. "Why, that sounded like a quote from _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_."

Ruth blinked innocently. "Or your Aunt Eustacia."

"Oh, no. She disapproves of the Oz series. I used to have to smuggle my books past her," Mina said, too interested to allow herself to be diverted.

Her instinct was correct. The look of outrage she got in return obviously wasn't feigned. "What a killjoy!"

"Yes, indeed. Although she claimed the series was full of empty, immoral trash, my belief as a child was that she actually feared I would discover her other identity as Old Mombi the witch."

"Hah! I knew I'd seen her before," Ruth crowed. Then she spoiled her pretentions to world-weariness forever by asking eagerly, "Which book was your favorite?"

"Must I choose? Perhaps _The Marvelous Land of Oz_ . Or _The Scarecrow of Oz_. Oh, I don't know. How about you?"

Although they traded seats again, their fishing was almost forgotten as they talked, words practically colliding in their eagerness. As attractive, as comforting, as Lake Winnipesaukee could be, part of Mina felt much more at home in the fabled land of Oz, where a young girl could wander around having perilous adventures among the bizarre residents of that exotic country without anyone at hand to force her back to her true task of learning to be a lady.

Mina felt she had every reason to be distracted by Ruth's outrageous claim that she'd found out all she needed to know about actors from Miss Cuttenclip's paper-doll people. It was why the next, inconspicuous hit on her line caught her by surprise; only habit made her loosen the drag on her reel before she checked to see if she had caught a snag.

She hadn't caught a snag. One twitch, and she discovered she'd caught a true whopper.

"Attagirl!" Ruth whooped as feet of line started stripping off Mina's reel. Then Ruth leaned into the oars.

The battle that followed was astonishingly tough, but something about talking Oz with Ruth Fisker had left Mina in no mood to lose. After a prolonged and all-out struggle she managed to turn the trout and fight it in. Thank heavens Benjamin had overshot the usual quality of the tackle issued to women when he'd borrowed. And thank heavens lugging about a twelve inch Newtonian telescope did not make for feeble limbs. The trout turned out to be ridiculously huge.

When they had managed something that approximated getting it into the rowboat, Ruth whistled. Of course she could whistle, Mina thought, just before Ruth's awed remark of "Around three feet long, I'd bet," brought Mina's focus back to where it belonged.

"Good Lord, Norcross would be livid if he knew. I think that's about the lake's record length," Mina said, feeling a bit blank with surprise. "Perhaps even over."

"You don't say." After what Mina should have recognized as a speculative pause, Ruth told her, "In either case, we're sure not topping this one. Tell you what. You must be tired after the struggle, so there's no sense in our changing places again. I'll row us back in for our picnic."

"If you insist," Mina said absently. The monstrous trout was demanding all of her attention. It was why she didn't notice they weren't returning to the boathouse. No, they were taking the longer trip to the pier.

Really, given how the relatives reacted, it was too bad of Ruth not to have reminded Mina that this was the day of the Gardens' annual fishing competition.

 

III

Vintage Postcard: Women with Caught Large Fish Real Photo

Code: SPORFIL-823

"What Beauties Lie Beneath. Lake Winnipesaukee, NH." Date 1926. Grade I

 

"Scenic Beauties of Lake Winnipesaukee," Benjamin read aloud three days later, as they ate their lunch at the picnic table beneath the great oak in the Cooper's backyard.

"That can't be right. They must have accidentally swapped captions." By craning over his shoulder, Mina could study the picture on the front page of the latest _Weekly Weirs News and Visitor's Guide_. No, Benjamin was correct about the caption's content, and there wasn't one of the usual lake photographs above the neighboring columns to cause confusion. And nothing attractive dominated the picture's background. It merely showed Mina standing with Ruth by the pier, the monstrous lake trout hanging from a framework between them. What a fuss the photographer had made about posing them to best demonstrate the size of Mina's catch. Or so he'd claimed, Mina thought, her eyes narrowing with sudden suspicion.

"Such is your latest theory? How unusually naive of you," was Benjamin's reply, and snidely spoken at that. Mina was pleased to see Ellen, seated on his other side, shift to poke him in the arm.

For her part, Mina used a level look to make her opinion clear. "It's not my fault if they insisted on awarding me the cup. I wasn't even entered in their contest."

"They were being gentlemen," Ellen told her with the air of one determined to be fair.

"I'd bet they wanted the publicity," Ruth said from across the table after neatly swallowing the last bite of her deviled egg.

Benjamin snorted. "I conjecture they saw a chance to avoid the usual dispute between the summer visitors and the year-round residents whenever the measurements of each group's best catches are the least bit close. However, setting aside the judges' reasons, the results of their decision have been unfortunate."

"Father fished this lake long before Cousin Norcross even dampened a line. All this sulking at my supposed poaching in his so-called waters is ridiculous," Mina told him.

With a nod, Benjamin said, "Yes. It is."

"And there was no call for Aunt Eustacia to have become involved."

"No. There wasn't."

"You'd think they'd all be relieved Norcross has turned his attentions back to Phoebe, if only to persuade her into leading the other distaff relatives as they bay after my unladylike blood. Again." Hearing her own words, Mina's gaze shifted to Ruth. She felt her eyes narrow once more in realization.

Slowly, Ruth smiled. Somehow her expression managed to be slightly apologetic and quite self-satisfied at the same time. Mina's cat, Hershel, was the only other being she'd ever watched communicate that mixture of emotions successfully.

Distracted, Mina missed the first few words of Benjamin's reply. "--expect any sense after all these years, I'm sure I don't know. Do continue avoiding them all until I can pour enough oil upon the social waters to smooth down these particular waves."

"You'd need all of Standard Oil's yearly production to do that," Mina told him.

"Avoiding everyone's relatives sounds okay to me. Mina and I could go shopping," Ruth interrupted, her tone bright.

"An excellent notion. As long as no one from either family sees you two together," Benjamin said. "For some reason -- What could it be? -- your recent camaraderie now arouses unease."

Wonderful. Benjamin's words were all the permission Ruth would likely need for whatever she had in mind. In fact, Mina could tell that seeking even this much consent was only Ruth's nod toward good manners. These past days had proved to Mina that Ruth Fisker was not only a peril to Mina's peace of mind but also a force of nature. Which was undoubtedly why Mina, no shrinking violet, found herself being rounded up and herded onto the Weirs trolley soon after lunch was done.

This time of day, the few passengers on board were scattered up and down the trolley benches, the nearest seated several feet away from where Ruth had found them places. After the driver had rung his bell and they departed the Weirs station, accompanied by the usual whiff of ozone from the electrical line overhead, Mina felt free to speak her mind.

"Shopping? In Laconia?" was all she asked. She did allow her gaze to linger on Ruth's pleated skirt and severe linen jacket before moving on to the narrow-brimmed cloche hat, all obviously up to the latest Manhattan standards.

"I had to say something. And even your brother believes women can't resist any chance to shop."

"That might be true if the women in question also can't resist the company of those recently drunken lumberjacks at O'Shea's Department Store who are purchasing work clothes before they return to the camps."

"If you had to choose between your female relatives--"

Mina held up a hand. "Never mind. I agree. O'Shea's."

"I was thinking about the soda fountain at Quimby Drugs myself, but to each her own."

After a stare she hoped was scorching, Mina said, "You're buying." She leaned back against the wooden slats of her seat and closed her eyes, still feeling offish for some reason. "Fishing competition. Photography. Scenic beauties. And all this merely to scrape off Norcross."

"Is that so hard to understand?" Ruth's tone was sweetly coaxing, blast her.

Some part of Mina was astonished to hear her own voice replying wearily, "No. Just…I thought we were doing so well. Becoming friends. I didn't know I was only your cat's-paw."

Her surprise at herself made Mina open her eyes. In the meantime, Ruth had leaned in a little, so Mina caught part of the struggle on Ruth's face that ended with her blurting out, "You were right the first time. It's been swell. You're…" Then Ruth bit her lower lip, seemingly as caught off guard by her own frankness as Mina had been.

"Oh," Mina said. She felt her lips twitch toward a smile before she subdued them. When she was sure she had them under control, she said severely, "Then I suppose I had better get used to these odd detours if we're to be friends. You strike me as a peril to traffic, Ruth Fisker."

Mina didn't need to be told Ruth was relieved. It somehow showed when she leaned back, stretched out one languid arm along the seat back, and airily observed, "I've heard that before, somewhere or other."

"I'd imagine," Mina retorted. "All the more reason for you to pay for our ice cream at Quimby's. Obviously a girl should husband her resources whenever you'll be choosing the route. Besides, you owe me one. More than one."

Ruth considered. "If I'm stuck paying, we're splitting a Dreamland Sundae."

"I'm glad I like peaches and pineapple together with vanilla. I suppose I should be happy we're not actually going all the way to Coney Island to get them." Seeing the speculative look in Ruth's eyes, Mina told her, "No."

"Not many of your relatives ever visit Dreamland, I'd bet."

"Bother my relatives. No matter how many roller coasters are to be found at Coney Island, a feature you've made clear you adore, still no. Even though I agree with this particular preference."

"Never mind." Ruth shrugged one shoulder, somehow mixing elegance with ennui. "One of these days."

Unfortunately, the one day in question should have been that very same day. They hadn't even finished cleaning out the last of the ice cream Ruth had paid for from their shared dish, or resolved their debate about merry-go-rounds versus swan boats, when Ruth glanced toward the large plate glass window at the front of the drug store and said, "Rats." Mina followed her gaze.

Along the Main Street sidewalk, arm in arm, marched Phoebe and Aunt Eustacia. Appalled by this violation of probability -- no, just appalled -- Mina asked, "How did they do that?"

For once, Ruth was visibly put out. "I forgot Norcross introduced me to this place." She turned the exasperation toward Mina. "But that's not my fault. You've been distracting me."

This was no time to want to fish for details. "Is there a back door?"

Too late. The bells over the front door jangled emphatically as Aunt Eustacia entered. "Mina Saltonstall Cooper!" She hadn't even approached the lunch counter yet, not that it kept her from speaking.

Ignoring the swift, sympathetic look 'Saltonstall' earned from Ruth, Mina asked, "Yes, Aunt Eustacia?"

"What, exactly, did you intend by dallying with that…gigantic fish?"

"It was a lake trout, Aunt Eustacia. And I intended to land it."

Eustacia had always hated clarifications. Now she closed in for the kill, still towing along Phoebe. The soda jerk, no fool he, was retreating down the counter. "There was an article. In the newspaper. With a photographof you effectively _en deshabille_."

"I agree, that was annoying. But I'd lost one of my hairpins while landing my trout."

"You might want to consider a bob," Ruth said, voice musing.

This comment, even though practical enough to be worthy of deliberation, made Eustacia swell like a pouter pigeon in pursuit of the opposite sex. "Really, Miss Fisker. How predictably modern of you."

Ruth waved a casual hand in agreement. Mina seized her chance to drink the last of her glass of Moxie in preparation for a retreat under fire. She should have chosen to pay attention. Phoebe, who had been mournfully silent until now, stopped gazing at Ruth with deeply pained eyes long enough to hollowly inquire, "Ah! Ruth Fisker. Wasn't leading my Norcross astray enough for you, you red-hot flapper? Must you now move on to Mina, you, you--"

Norcross might not have been enough, but this was. Mina who had stood and seized Ruth's arm, interrupted, "I will certainly attempt to avoid any such record-breaking fishes in the future, but now you must excuse us. I believe I need to replace a screw clamp on my Newtonian telescope, and we wouldn't want O'Shea's to close before we arrive."

As she had hoped, the choice between castigating Mina about the giant fish incident, berating her about her intentions while stargazing, or condemning her for going anywhere near O'Shea's and its lumberjacks was difficult enough to briefly silence Aunt Eustacia. And Phoebe lost her chance by pausing to be overcome by her emotions, complete with a lace-bordered handkerchief.

Thank heavens Mina managed to get them both out the front door before Ruth protested, "Phoebe was about to call me a vamp."

"Very likely. Board the trolley." It was stopping at the intersection, and if they caught it--

"I've never once been compared to Theda Bara. That's the trouble with being a blue-eyed blonde."

"How heartrending for you. Hurry up."

"And, gosh, wasn't I impressed by her notions about my gifts as a temptress."

"Yes, your quite evident magnetism is observably effective on a wide variety of individuals, as I've discovered first-hand. Do you have a nickel?"

Unfortunately, Ruth's subsequent, considering silence seemed to have nothing to do with finding her fare. Mina had to pay for them both. Still, leaving Aunt Eustacia and Cousin Phoebe behind was worth the money. It was even worth an unscheduled trip to Lakeport.

Satisfied for the moment, Mina turned away from studying the road behind them to say, "I'm sure Aunt Eustacia demanded that Benjamin's driver, Henry, stay outside with the Pierce-Arrow. She always does, which strongly disinclines Henry toward initiative on her behalf. If she can't give him a precise location, we've likely escaped."

Ruth changed the subject with unusual directness. "You brought a telescope up to the lake with you?"

"My, you have been avoiding my kin and their gossip. Although I haven't gone out for the last few nights, so I suppose you'd have no other way of knowing that I was attempting to make observations." Mina frowned, surprised by her own behavior once more.

"Oh," Ruth said pensively. "Is a Newtonian telescope the kind with an eyepiece on its side?"

"Why, yes. I'm impressed you know that."

"Fact checker. How big is its mirror?"

"Twelve inches," Mina told her with what she thought was pardonable pride. "I ground it myself."

"Gosh." Ruth pursed her lips and then, recalled to herself by the action, pulled out a cerise red lipstick and mirrored compact to repair the damage done by their ice cream sundae. This was a bit daring in public, but somehow seemed entirely appropriate when performed by Ruth Fisker.

Once she was finished, Ruth said, still in the tones of one deliberating, "I'd bet you can see all sorts of astronomical stuff with a twelve inch mirror. It's not something I've had a chance to experience, living in Manhattan and all. If I'm lucky, I can pay a nickel for a peek through a telescope in Central Park. That's about it."

Almost shyly, Mina said, "If you're truly interested…"

"Oh, yes." Ruth smiled as she returned the compact to her alligator handbag. "I can honestly say I'm truly interested."

"Well, in that case--"

Perhaps Benjamin hadn't been entirely wrong when he'd accused Mina of unusual naiveté over lunch.

 

IV

Vintage Postcard: Constellation, Cassiopeia

Code: AST-S1014

"Cassiopeia the Queen." Constellations Postcard Set. Grade I

 

There was something faintly magical about that night even before Ruth showed up outside of Mina's window. The lingering twilight slowly gave way to a late evening both cloudless and cool, one as yet unlit by the crescent moon that would be rising later. For once, still air in July felt soft instead of wetly clinging, and all the subtle sounds of the night birds and nocturnal animals in the woods nearby carried clearly to where Mina stood listening in her bedroom. Even given the lights of the summer cottages along the lake shore, the stars overhead were bright enough to make Mina want to stomp down the front stairs and march outside with her telescope, letting her relatives be damned. Only the knowledge that Benjamin was making a real diplomatic effort on her behalf restrained her. That, and her need to wait for Ruth Fisker.

Apparently Ruth could scale both trees and buildings like some Amazonian Tarzana of the Apes in jodhpurs. Perhaps this was due to her theatrical training. Whatever its origin, Ruth's skill was impressive. Her arrival was heralded by little more than some shifting shadows, a rustling noise or two, a sudden increase in the odor of citronella above the whiff due Mina's preparations, and a soft tapping on the glass. Once Mina had finished sliding up its lower sash, Ruth slithered in through the window, which rattled, and onto the bed, which creaked loudly.

"Hhhh," Mina told her, typical of how shushing came out if you'd learned to distrust sibilants.

They both paused to listen. Then Mina, satisfied, said softly, "I'm the only one with a bedroom on this floor."

"Lucky you. Or good thinking."

"Thanks," Mina told her, turning up her light just a little. "I'll carry the telescope if you'll take the tripod and the folding stool. As you go down the upper flight, the third and fifth steps creak. The fifth one's also a problem on the lower flight. And you might want to tread carefully. Our rear stairs are steep."

"Aren't they always?" Ruth asked philosophically, as she scooped up the tripod. It was none of Mina's business, knowing how Ruth had collected enough of a sample to find that out. Besides, she was right. Mina settled for extinguishing her lamp without saying anything more.

Either Ruth had a natural aptitude for sneaking, or she could imagine how overdramatic some of Mina's kin might be about the least hint of a burglar. Perhaps both alternatives were true. In any case, Ruth gave their quiet exit from the cottage the attention it demanded, and they made it out through the kitchen door unchallenged.

After they were into the back yard, it wasn't difficult to use the shadows beneath the great oak to cross the croquet lawn and enter the woods. Soon after that, they were deep enough between the trees to turn on their flashlights.

"I wonder if we'll meet a bear," Ruth said, gently dissuading a moth from diving into her light.

"I'm much more worried about skunks. But I have yet to have serious problems with any large animal. They seem to hear me coming."

"That's reassuring. I guess." This time, Ruth batted away a beetle. "'Lead on Macduff.' Or, no, make that, 'Lay on Macduff. And damn'd be he that first cries, Hold, enough!' Maybe the correct quote is the best one for this evening."

Mina hoped Ruth hadn't been referring to the trail. They had, admittedly, something of a hike south to the rocky knoll where Mina preferred to observe, but the trip was easier than usual with two to share the load. And Ruth didn't complain. Her audible comments about mosquitoes and expressed gratitude for citronella oil were merely reasonable, and the joke about catamounts was actually quite funny. She also proved to have a pleasant singing voice. Of course.

"Do you always sing to any moths you encounter?" Mina asked.

"It's better than meeting with unwarned skunks," Ruth pointed out, although she sounded cheerful as she did so.

Fair enough. Mina walked for a few seconds longer before she offered, feeling a bit tentative, "I know a song about June bugs."

"Then demonstrate for the class, Miss Cooper."

It couldn't have been more than a half-hour, all told, before they'd hiked to where the trees thinned out on the steep and rocky field around the outcrop. After considering her options, Mina set up her telescope to the north of the stone face. Then she straightened and asked, "How are you on constellations?"

"The Big Dipper isn't one."

" Right. Much better than usual." Mina took a deep breath and let it out. "Well, if you don't mind waiting for the stool until I aim my telescope, we could start with Ursa Major."

At first Ruth seemed a little preoccupied by something other than astronomy, but by the time they were discussing the colors of the stars and what those might mean, she was obviously hooked. And when Mina started explaining the latest ideas about island universes, Ruth sounded fascinated.

"As many stars as in the Milky Way?"

"Mmm-hmm. Many millions."

"How many of these nebulae things are actually island universes?"

Mina laughed, enjoying the thrilling implications of what she was saying. "The current best approximation is lots and lots of them."

"Lots and lots of millions and millions." There was a brief silence. "Forget speakeasies. The next time I need to lose my troubles, I'm going stargazing."

"It's almost as good as roller coasters, I find. Just let me shift a bit more toward Cassiopeia."

As she moved to change the telescope's direction and Ruth shifted to clear her way, Mina glanced over and frowned. Her eyes had adjusted nicely to the ambient starlight. Clearly visible because of its greenish pallor, a large moth -- probably a luna -- was slowly creeping along Ruth's hair band. Mina leaned in close and, recalling Ruth's earlier gentleness, puffed a breath of air at the creature to persuade it to take wing. Then a soft sweep of her hand, one that accidentally brushed along Ruth's cheek and lips, directed it away.

"Wow." Ruth was definitely startled. "And here I thought I'd be the one who took a try."

"Tried what? To remove the moth?" As Mina spoke, the luna arced around them, ghost-graceful and marked out by its moons, before fluttering off into the night.

For naiveté to be unusual, it has to eventually end. When Ruth's trained expressiveness betrayed her for once, and her posture suddenly shifted toward wariness, comprehension crashed in on Mina. "Oh."

Ruth said nothing after that one word, so Mina swallowed and filled the suddenly electric silence with, "Somehow I didn't associate a fashionable and courted flapper with, well, pashing. You know, being a follower of Lesbos." Realizing how her words might sound, Mina blundered on. "I never was much good at this back at Wellesley. The middle parts, I mean, where one somehow gets from the boxes of chocolates and longing looks to the intertwined hands and kisses."

Later Mina would learn the mixture of dejection and yearning in her voice was what made her case for her. All she knew at the time was that Ruth relaxed as obviously as she'd tensed. In fact, her voice was a little amused when she said, "Then you might have learned something if you hadn't dazzled me with astronomy."

"Oh?"

"But I didn't want to get grabby at the art show. Not if it might cost me a new friend. One who understands Oz."

Mina realized she was smiling. She took a few seconds to think and a few more to brace up her courage before she asked, "So may I have a rain check for this evening's educational demonstration? This evening's other educational demonstration?"

"You bet. No need to hurry. Not much else for you to do on damp and cloudy evenings except dodge your relatives, I guess. " Ruth obviously meant for her subsequent shudder to be seen even in the dark. "Besides, we'll want something over the next few weeks to soften the blow of being bridesmaids. Have you heard Ellen's latest notions about the dresses?"

Mina's flinch may have originated on the other end of the fashion spectrum, but it was just as heartfelt for all that. "I have." After a brief pause, she asked, "Do…Would you still like to learn about Cassiopeia?"

"Yes, I would." The laugh that followed was the unfeigned one of Ruth taken by surprise. "Gosh, I really would. So what other amazing rarities do you have to show me tonight?"

Flirtation proved not to disrupt the proceedings at all. In fact, it added a definite zest. During their trip back to the cottage, Mina could have sung to the dark woods, the moths, the theoretical bears and skunks, and the actual nebulae in the skies above them. It was as if she wore wings, as if she flew across Oz instead of stepped over tree roots on a forest trail in New Hampshire. But, for all her elation, Mina still hiked the trail with care. She had to manage her telescope while lighting the path for Ruth, after all. Ruth, who was presently humming Mina's June Bug song in a way that managed to be audibly smug.

Well. Mina couldn't blame her. A special chance like this, the opportunity to catch such a rare and difficult dream in adulthood, was worth a little smugness.

In fact, a chance this uncommon was even worth Cousin Emily awaking and mistaking them both for burglars as they snuck back into the cottage.

 

V

Vintage Postcard: CONEY ISLAND NY Rollercoaster Real Photo

Code: AMP-1020

"The Thunderbolt, Coney Island, NY." Used 1933. Grade II

 

Even roller coasters are best enjoyed in measured doses.

Having double-checked the validity of that hypothesis once again on this vacation, Mina and Ruth decided to spend the remainder of a sweltering afternoon in the cool of a largely empty movie theater advertising the wondrous new technology of air-conditioning. Certainly, Coney Island, in all its somewhat dingy and relative-repulsing glory, showed no signs of disappearing during the few hours it would take them to see _Gold Diggers of 1933_ and the accompanying features.

"Did you remember to buy a postcard to send to Benjamin and Ellen?" Mina asked as they waited through the short interval after the travelogue.

"I sure did. It's the Thunderbolt. He'll sigh, she'll giggle, and the offspring will want to go on a summer vacation with us instead of visiting Europe again."

"If Benjamin's smart, he'll compromise and take them up to the lake."

Ruth glanced in her direction, obvious even in the dark. Then she said, very softly, in a voice both amused and world-weary, "I adore the kids, but at least that would save us from having to make more work for some hotel maid by truly using the second bed."

"Hhhh. The second short's about to begin," Mina replied sternly. But she was smiling into the dark.

As proclaimed by the posters outside, the second short subject was a cartoon. Mina had wanted to watch this one because "Betty Boop Sees Stars" had sounded as if it might amuse her. True to Mina's hopes, Betty swiftly managed to knock a loose brick onto her own noggin, beginning a dreamland trip through the stars circling her head that continued up into the animated heavens. Ever loyal, her paramour, Bimbo the Dog, stole a policeman's billy club and followed her.

As Betty boated the perilous rapids of the Milky Way in hot pursuit of Pisces, her short, flapper skirts flying about her in a dangerous fashion, Ruth leaned in close to murmur, words low and breath warm against Mina's ear, "Aunt Eustacia might not approve of her fishing technique, but I'm sure enjoying it."

"Now you're just being provocative."

Soon enough the cartoon pair was reunited, Betty sweetly crooning while the stars and planets romped around them.

"Oh, isn't it heavenly, to share every scheme with you; to be able to dine with you, and dance with you, and dream with you," she sang to Bimbo, her hips swaying.

Discretely, but not at all demurely, Mina reached out in the dark of the movie theater to take Ruth's hand in her own. Up on the silver screen, the great animated moon winked down at them both as he bounced along beside the stars, marking the beat of their joyous dance. Ruth twined her fingers through Mina's, catching her fast.

 

**Author's Note:**

> "…a song about June bugs."
> 
> I wish I was a rhinocerarius, a hippopotadame, ah ha ha ha.  
> But since I’m not and never can hope to be a rhinocerarius, a hippopotadame,  
> I’m a June bug, I’m a beetle,  
> I buzz and hit my head against a tree, ah ha ha ha!
> 
> I wish I was a honosorarius, a rippamatadame, ah ha ha ha.  
> But since I’m not and never can hope to be a honosorarius, a rippomatadame,  
> I’m a boon jug, I’m a teebull,  
> I huzz and bit my tead against a bree, ah ha ha ha!


End file.
